


In the Pursuit of Freedom and Happiness

by red_dead_writer



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Awkward Flirting, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff and Angst, I just really like mary ok, Love Letters, Micah Bell Being an Asshole, Mostly Fluff, Slow Burn, Spoilers, Victorian fashion is hard to write about, micah dies
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-24
Updated: 2021-01-26
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:07:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27182890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/red_dead_writer/pseuds/red_dead_writer
Summary: Arthur runs into an old lover at Saint Denis.
Relationships: Karen Jones/Sean MacGuire, Mary Gillis Linton/Arthur Morgan, Mary-Beth Gaskill & Tilly Jackson
Comments: 10
Kudos: 23





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time writing something like this so bear with me.
> 
> Dutch is more like a father to Arthur in this and doesn't start going insane.

It's been nearly a day since Jack disappeared. Since the Braithwaite manor was set ablaze. Abigail was inconsolable, the women were at her side, the men were on edge and uncle was shitfaced drunk, as per usual. Camp was heavily guarded, more so than usual, as Arthur, Dutch, John, Karen, Sadie and Bill were out, looking for Angelo Bronte, the man that vile woman gave Jack to. 

Effort was put in, searching every alley and street of that filthy city. Arthur had found a lead at a bar. A man in a strange hat had told him to ask around in an alley. He found kids, street kids that gave him a tour of the roach infested city, before ever so kindly relieving him of his satchel. Arthur naturally ran after the thieving urchin as the boy laughed and yelled out childish taunts. Lead to a dead end by the kid, he got ambushed by his gang of misfits and bastards. 

The past hours passed on as a haze of boredom and the smell of burning rubber, it was now late. Jack was close to be found, and returned.

Arthur mounted up on his beautiful white Arabian, Ether. He rode to a saloon, the night being illuminated by street lamps and the flickering reflections of them on the cold, wet cobblestone streets of Saint Denis. Sure, the alcohol was overpriced, but it got the troubles off his mind, just like it always did. 

Sweet lady liquor... always there for him.

The night crawled on, ending with him, passed out on his own bed, with the morning sun intrusively shining in through the bare, cracked window.

He saw a note on the table beside his bed, and folded it into hid pocket. There were more important things at hand, to be fair.  
Breakfast was usual, a cup of black coffee and dry bread from who knows how long ago.

Shady Belle ain't that bad. Exept for the goddamn mosquitoes, crocodiles and the occasional drunkard wandering by. Him and John had already done something for Bronte, and he promised to return Jack today. Abigail was happier, and rode out with John, Hosea and Dutch to get her beloved boy. 

Dutch and Hosea stayed with Bronte, to discuss business. It was unlike for Dutch to leave Arthur behind on ventures like these, bur still relatively common.

'Hey English, are ya gonna get us some goddamn supplies with Pearson, or will ya go out on guard duty?' Sean questi  
questioned the taller man with his thick irish accent.

'I'm going with Pearson. Are you gonna laze around the fire all day Sean?' He retorted with a tired look. 'Yeah, yeah, I'll get right to it.' Sean replied and cracked open another beer, before Grimshaw pulled him up and yelled at him to do something productive. 

Arthur got Pearson's list, and was left alone to go buy food for once. Saint Denis  
was a strange place for sure. Arthur loaded up the grains, cans and mischellanious things after having a rather unpleasant interaction with the rude clerk.

He looked up from the wagon to see a familiar pair of dark brown eyes, staring back at him, with a look of surprise. 

Mary Linton.


	2. Baby Steps

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I accidentally deleted the entire thing and had to restart from scratch

Arthur looked away and pretended not to notice her looking at him. He had to get the cargo to Shady Belle anyway. He raced back to camp, plagued by both painful and happy memories. He wanted to get back to her. She was the one who got away. 

He left the food for Pearson and had a brief chat with the newly returned, and gave Jack a long hug. 

He went to his room and remembered the note. He dug it out of his pocket and read it over. It was from Mary, asking for help. Mr. Gillis was in trouble. As much as he hated the bastard, Arthur still had feelings for Mary. He rode back to town, thinking about just getting a drink, and not meeting Mary at the hotel. Deep down he knew he wasn't going for the whiskey. He rode Ether through the maze like streets, giving up after an hour.   
Maybe it was just a crazy dream. Maybe _he_ was crazy. 

"Arthur! Arthur, you came!" A familiar voice called out from a balcony. Arthur looked up and saw Mary. He thought again if he was making a huge mistake, talking to her again, after the Jamie thing.   
He looked up at her and answered her calling "Yeah, I came."  
"Wait there, I'm comin' straight down!" He looked around and waited the minute it took her to come down. "Arthur... you came," Mary said again. "Sure. Whenever you call for me, I come," Arthur simply replied. "Oh, Arthur..." Mary said, sorrow plastered on her face. "What's wrong?" He asked her, slightly worried for her. "It's daddy..." she continued. "Your father? I'm a bigger fool than I even thought," He replied with disappointment in his gruff voice. He was turning and ready to walk, when Mary kept going. "Please, Arthur... I know daddy wasn't kind to to you... but surely you can't hate a man for the sin of loving his daughter! And wanting better for her than... " She stumbled over her words, not knowing hot to quite say it yet, when she was cut off by Arthur. "Than me?" He turned to face her again, anger and dissapointment now showing on his angular face. "Than the choices you made," Mary continued again. 

"What choice did I have? Did i ever have?" He raised his voice a bit now. "Oh, i know... you had to live by your code... but your code is... it ain't right!" Mary hissed back.   
"Has your way been right? Has your father's been right? With you and Jamie joining some crazies, while your daddy's out there, drinkin', gamblin', whorin'... Is that what a pure life gotten ya? Begging me for help?" His tone got colder now. "Oh, Arthur... I'm... Sorry. I shouldn't have asked you," She apologized as Arthur paced to the stone steps of Hotel Grand, where he sat down, somewhat shaggy hair falling over his eye. "But I'm the best guy you know at frightening decent people," Mary sat next to him and softly pushed the hair away from his eyes. "It wasnt that i didn't love you, Arthur. You know that," she softly said. "I know," he said and looked back at her. "Oh Arthur...we were so young... think how different our lives could've been," she said with the sorrow returning to her voice. 

"Yeah, i think about it. a lot, but... it all seems so long and far from now..." he said with a sniffle.  
"Will you help me save him?" She asked quietly.

Arthur sighed and looked up at Mary, staring into her deep, brown eyes, thinking about it. "Sure. Where's the fool anyway?" He mounted Ether, and gestured for her to join him. "Don't be a pompous ass, Arthur. You're better than that." "Should I leave that to daddy?" Ge quipped back, making her smile a bit. She held onto the mans waist gently, smelling his scent. It was a nice mix of strong coffee, dirt and a bit of whiskey. 

Ether ran like the wind to the stables, thank god they were close. Arthur dismounted and gently helped her off. She went in, and he kept guard outside. Suddenly, over the cacophonous noises of the bustling city, Mr. Gillis stomped out, stinking of cheap whiskey and beer. Mary pleaded for him to come home, and stop the drinking. "Get out of my sight you... worthless..." Gillis spun and screamed in the ladys face and mumbled something unintelligeble. "Please, just come home... he nearly killed you already! What would mama think?" Mary begged him to go home again. "Shut up, woman. Yer mother was fuckin' whore" Gillis roared in his blind, drunken rage, and shoved her to the ground. Arthur grabbed the fat, old bastard by his collar and punched his lights out. "Arthur, please stop!" Mary begged and pulled his arms away from her father. Arthur shoved him to the ground. Gillis fell to the ground with a thud and a soft clink of metal. "Please, Arthur leave him be... it's okay." Mary said, scared. "No, it ain't right Mary. Your dad ain't supposed to treat ya like that." He looked down at the old bag and saw him for what he really was. A pitiful excuse of a man. There was a small, shining thing, gently nestled in the shit laden street. He picked it up and roughly wiped the crap and mud off, to reveal it was a brooch. Mary gasped and took it in her roughed up hand and inspected it. "This was Mother's brooch! How could he!" She put it away and thanked Arthur. 

A nearby lawman noticed the cadaver on the ground and took the older man to a lovely place called 'The Saint Denis Jail' to sleep it off. 

Mary asked Arthur to the theatre, and the two went, Mary slightly disillusioned. Not that it hadnt ever happened before. The show was lovely, a young lady, dancing with fire, and the Can Can ladies. The show ended, and he was walking her to the trolley. Down by the tracks, before the slow train arrived, Mary gently took Arthur's hand and a breath, as if she was trying to find the right words. "Could we... maybe do this again? " she articulated, looking a bit nervous. "Sure. I guess I'll see ya around, Mary," he replied, and looked at her again. Mary stepped a bit closer, and hugged him. She was so warm, and it felt so right. 

Arthur let go, slowly, never wanting to let her go again. But that couldn't ever happen. He was an outlaw, and she was, well, too high class in the eyes of her family to marry a man like Arthur. Not for lack of trying, though. 

Jamie had gotten away from the slimy hands of her father, and Mother had died a long time ago. Mary felt responsible for the actions of her terrible father, as she was the only one there for him.


	3. Return To Tacitus Kilgore

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this took way too long, i was dealing with some family issues and didnt have the time to write.

Return to Tacitus Kilgore." 

As time passed, the letters were getting more frequent.  
The two planned to meet by the pond in Saint Denis, as it was quiet, beautiful and lacking officers of the law later in the evening. 

The old flame was being reignited, or maybe it wasn't ever fully snuffed out. 

It hadn't been but a month or two and they were already sweet on one another. 

Arthur was waiting by the wall of the park, excepting her to show up soon.  
He had cleaned up more than usual for this meeting, even having shaved his stubble away. 

She soon walked through the gates, hair in a low bun and wearing her deep blue-green dress with the brooch.  
"Arthur!" Mary greeted, exited and took him in for a tight hug. 

"Hey Mary!" There was strange joy in his voice. One that hadn't been heard in years. 

"How are ya doing?" She asked, letting him go slowly and slightly reluctantly.  
"Fine enough, I guess. You?" Arthur answered, stepping back a pace.  
"Okay. " She answered. There was an akward silence for a moment as both thought of what to say next.  
"Cigarette?" Mary offered, taking out a pack.  
"Thanks, darlin'." Arthur took one out and lit a match.  
"Well aren't you a charmer today?" She laughed and Arthur chuckled.  
"I know a nice spot, down by the lake, if ya care to join me?" Arthur offered.  
"Why not? Anything to get out of this city." She replied, eager to go with him.  
She retrieved her horse, a light dapple grey thoroughbred on the smaller side named Rosa. 

"So... where are ya'll camping now?" Mary asked.  
"Right outside the city, in a real nice mansion. Four walls and a roof too!" He replied with a hint of sarcasm. 

"Really now?" Mary egged him on, not thinking he was serious.  
"Really. Well, almost four walls and a roof." 

The two kicked the horses to a gallop and soon found themselves near Clemens Point. The sights were truly awe inspiring. Mary and Arthur dismounted and sat near the water.  
There was some silence, as the sun was beginning to set, the brilliant oranges, pinks and purples dancing elegantly on the calm water. 

"I've been meaning to ask you something, Arthur... why'd you leave me? We were doing so good." Mary asked, curious yet sad.  
"Well..." Arthur took deep breat before continuing. "They would've taken you... the O'Driscoll's killed Annabel... and Bessie. I didn't think I could take seeing you dead over that. " He explained, pain radiating from his voice. 

Mary didn't reply. There was nothing to really say. She embraced him again and softly kissed his cheek. 

For the first time in nearly a decade, he felt he could open up to someone over this. 

"I missed you Arthur..." She whispered softly.  
"I missed you too Mary... i had to do it." He responded.  
"Do you think... do you think we could give it another try, Arthur?" She asked quietly.  
"We almost have 'nough money to run, I swear. Come with me to Tahiti... or wherever we end up." He pleaded. Mary looked deep into his eyes, thinking about it.  
"I... will. There's nothing left here for me. 'Cept daddy..."  
"This is our chance Mary, I can finally get out... we's all gonna be fine if all goes to plan..." Arthur kept convincing her.  
"Oh, Arthur!" She hugged him again, nearly crying. Arthur hugged her back hard. He pulled back from the hug and held her by the waist gently, Mary's hands on his hips.  
The setting sun glittered in their eyes, like the coals of a dying fire. 

They stared longingly into the others eyes. There was silence, the wind rustled the leaves, and the waves started to crash against the rocks, before calming back into a mirror. 

Mary stood higher and kissed him on the lips and stood back down and stared into his eyes once again. Arthur bent down and kissed her back. 

"Guess we's givin' it another go then." Arthur chuckled.


	5. So Long, Saint Denis.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This turned out a bit long, and it certainly took a while.

"Think about it, Dutch! There was Blackwater, Arthur getting taken and the Pinkertons just happening to come across two camps!" Hosea argued with the man.  
"That doesn't mean anything! Just bad luck!" Dutch dismissed it.  
"How the hell do you explain the O'Driscoll's coming this far south and finding us hiding here?" Arthur took Hosea's side.  
"Have some goddamn faith you two! That man saved both our lives back there!" Dutch hissed at Hosea. 

"Well ain't that just convinient! Every single job he's been involved in has got us all nearly killed! Then he just happened to get caught when every single lawman in the country was in that town!" Arthur growled back at him.  
"When we rob that bank, it's gonna be a setup! Were all gonna get shot or hanged! We're dead men if we set foot in there." Hosea kept arguing, when the man of the hour just happened to take Dutch's side.

"If Micah was a rat, the Pinkertons would've found us!" Dutch defended him.  
"Search him then! If he's innocent he ain't got nothing to hide!" Hosea decided. Micah squirmed a bit, hand grazing the handle of his revolver. 

"Go ahead old man. I ain't got nothing to hide!" Micah bluffed. 

"Take your coat off then, cowpoke." Arthur called his bluff and took the jacket, as Micah went white. There was a few coins, a pocket watch and a loose cigarette in the pocket, nothing special. 

There was nothing in his pant pockets, sleeves or  
boots. 

"Told you Matthews!" Micah laughed, relieved.  
"I think you owe Mr. Bell an apology." Dutch reprimanded, as Micah put his coat back on and Arthur glared at him.

"What's that?" Dutch asked, pointing at the white corner pointing out of Micah's holster, nearly completely hidden but glaringly obvious against the ebony wood. 

"It's nothing. Don't you feel dumb now for doubting me, Morgan." He changed the topic and sneered at Arthur.  
"What's in the holster, Micah?" Dutch asked in a threatening manner.  
"Calm down, boss. It's just my cleaning rag!" Micah dismissed it and started strutting away calmly. 

"That don't look like a cleaning rag to me, Micah." Arthur stepped in front of Micah, taking his own revolver into his hand.  
"That's because your heads full of air, cowpoke." Micah scoffed.  
"Well put the rag back in your pocket then." Hosea requested, knowing it wasn't a rag.  
"Why should I? It ain't an issue there." Micah scoffed again.  
"_Show us the rag, Micah._" Arthur threatened.  
"Cut the shit, Micah. Open it." Dutch insisted, as he stepped back from the trio. Arthur stepped behind him, and Hosea ripped the letter from his hand. 

"Put the letter down, Matthews." Micah threatened and drew his guns on Hosea and Dutch. 

The letter fell into a muddy puddle, as all three men had their revolvers pointed at him.  
"Put the goddamn guns down, Micah, or you're a dead man." Arthur pushed the cold barrel into his back.  
The rest of the gang started forming around them, guns out. 

"Put the guns down. I'm not asking." Dutch growled.  
The ink on the letter started running, leaving a faint grey streak.  
Micah moved to stomp the letter into the mud. 

A single deafening shot rang out in the swamps. 

His white hat fell beside the letter, followed by his corpse. 

Hosea reholstered his gun and picked up the letter. 

The letter was ruined. A few phrases were somewhat readable.

"_Have VdL rob......Saint Den.......... law..

........agency will guarantee your freedom, along with the bounty money of each casua..... We cannot guarantee mor....... 

.....Incinerate after reading. 

Regards, A.M. and E.R._" 

It was wet and splattered with ink. 

"What's it say?" Arthur asked.  
"He was the rat, Dutch. Apparently, Micah would've gotten our bounties. " Hosea stated.  
"Ain't that over 10 000 dollars?" Arthur asked rhetorically.  
"I should've known." Dutch muttered.  
"We're not robbing that bank now, Dutch." Hosea demanded.  
"I should've let you leave him in that jail." Dutch muttered again.  
Soon, most of the gang was gathered around the cadaver.  
"I owe you both an apology and a drink." Dutch said and read the letter himself. 

"Lenny, you wanted a pocket watch, right?" Arthur asked and took the silver watch out. It had a stag and a spruce engraved on the cover. 

"Yeah, why?" Lenny asked.  
"Here. I couldn't find ya another one." He snapped it shut and tossed it to Lenny.  
"This is a nice watch. You sure you don't wanna keep it? Lenny asked, inspecting the delicate engravings.  
"I gave it to you, didn't I?" Arthur asked.  
"Thanks." Lenny thanked and put it into his pocket. 

"What are we gonna do about his things?" Bill asked.  
"I say we lay it out and let everyone take whatever they want. It ain't like it can't be used or sold." John suggested.  
"Arthur, help me with this." Dutch asked and picked Micah's legs up. The two hoisted the dead man into the swamp, each taking one revolver. 

"I should've known, Arthur." Dutch muttered again.  
"Well, he's dead now. We're gonna be fine... What exactly did you see in him?" Arthur took out a cigarette and lit it up. 

"He was good with a gun... reliable and... he saved Hosea and me. " Dutch thought.  
"Reliable? Micah? That's like saing Uncle ain't lazy as hell." Arthur laughed.  
"But we should move camp. I don't know how much he told them, but we can't stay here now." Dutch changed the topic.  
They parted ways and Arthur went to speak with John. 

"Look what I found!" John exclaimed and held up a children's book.  
"Ain't that the book I found Jack back in Horseshoe Overlook?" Arthur asked and took the book into his hand.  
"Why the hell is it in his chest?" John asked, and took it back.  
"I don't know. Hey, when you give it back to Jack, I found another book for him." Arthur took out and handed him another children's book. 

"Thanks." John took it, and kept rifling through Micah's stuff.  
"Hey, when you're done, bring that shirt up to our room, we're running low on patchin' fabric." Abigail stopped by.  
"Just take it. Oh, and here, give these to Jack." John handed the books and ripped shirt to Abigail.  
"This is the book Jack lost! Where was it?" Abigail asked and flipped through the pages.  
"Micah's stuff. Who steals from a kid?" John answered flatly.  
"We do, sometimes." Arthur replied.  
"I meant like... without any benefit." John stumbled over his words.  
"I guess.... maybe." Arthur sighed.  
There was basically nothing of value in the chest except some cans of food.  
They ended up throwing the trunk back into a wagon, and deciding on doing something about it later. 

"Hey, John, wait up." Arthur stopped John.  
"What?" John asked and walked back to Arthur.  
"Never mind." Arthur sighed and went back inside, and to his room. 

He took his journal and started filling in another entry 

"_Micah was a rat. Hosea was right once again. He had a letter from the Pinkertons. Micah must've been dumber than I thought to have brought it to camp. We might move camp any day now, and I should go tell Mary I might not be here next week..._"

Arthur snapped his journal shut and left for Saint Denis. 

Soon enough, he was in the city again, and in front of the hotel. Arthur walked into the hotel and up to the receptionist, who was reading a novel.  
"Excuse me, mister. Is there a Mary Linton here?" He asked the receptionist.  
"Room three upstairs, go down the left hallway." The man said without even looking up at him. 

Arthur made his way to the room and knocked on the wooden door.  
"Who's there?" A muffled voice came from behing the door.  
"It's Arthur." He announced. The door opened and Mary ushered him in. 

"Hi, Arthur." She greeted.  
"Hey, Mary. I have to tell you something."  
"What is it?" Her face fell.  
"Well, er... we're moving camp any day now. I don't know how far we might have to go." Arthur warned.  
"Oh... Hey, sit, I just made tea." Mary poured two cups as Arthur sat down by the small dinner table. 

"Anyway, what happened?" She asked as she sat on the opposite side of the table. 

"Well, Micah was a rat. I don't know how much he told the government and now were looking for another campsite." He told. 

"Can't you ask him? Or eh... force him to talk?"She asked.  
"There's the thing. He's dead. We ain't getting any answers from a corpse." Arthur clarified.  
"Oh... Well, that's too bad. Wasn't that the guy you had to break out of jail?" Mary asked.  
"Yeah, that's him." He confirmed and took a sip.  
"Huh..." She took a sip as well. 

They sat together in silence for a bit, drinking the tea.  
"Hey, you wanna do something today?" Mary asked.  
"Sure. What do you wanna do?" Arthur answered and asked.  
"We could go to a- oh, yeah it's sunday. Nevermind." She sighed and got up to put the two teacups in the sink.  
"Well, there's a saloon by main street. It's a robbery, but it's open and not full of rats." Arthur suggested.  
"The Bastille? No... that's a bit pricy. I have a bottle of wine somewhere, if you want a glass." Mary asked and looked around the room.  
"Oh, I brought something." Arthur took out a bottle of brandy out.  
"That's awful sweet of you, Arthur. Thank you." She kept searching until she found the bottle and two drinking glasses.

So, how's he anyway?" He asked.  
"Probably dead. I don't know, and don't care anymore." She replied and poured them both a glass of wine.  
"Really?" Arthur asked.  
"Yeah. I know he might be back in a few weeks with flowers and pretty promises to stop drinking and doing opium and everything else under the sun." Mary sighed dejectedly, knowing that he would never change.  
"He's doing opium now?" Arthur asked, now surprised.  
"Yep. Started a few weeks back, I think, and now he only takes breaks to sleep and drink." Mary set down her glass and stared at thw dark liquid a bit sorrowfully.  
"How do you know?" Arthur asked out of curiosity.  
"I caught him in an alley with some other men, just lying there and... they were alive and looked well, happy but, they wasn't really all there anymore. I tried to get an officer there to help, but he told me to mind my own business and to forget what I saw." She described. 

"I'm real sorry about him." He responded  
"No you ain't, but I appreciate the thought."

"How have you getting by these days?" Arthur asked sincerely.  
"Well, when I found out daddy sold the house I got a job at the garment factory. It shut down two weeks ago, though, everyone got laid off. I've been looking for something more stable than a parlour maid." Mary replied and shrugged. 

"A prostitute? You? Really?" Arthur asked, confused.  
"No, a parlour maid! In a saloon! I clean, serve food and well, act like a tease to get men to stay longer. It's a living, I guess." She told.  
"Oh. I thought they were the same." Arthur replied, a bit surprised.  
"So I've been living off my savings mostly and..." She stopped in the middle of the sentence and went quiet, realizing this wasn't something that should be mentioned. 

"And what?" Arthur asked carefully.  
Mary winced and spat the truth out.  
"I.. robbed him... It was either that or becoming a street prostitute! He just sold the farm, and had a few hundred on hand! It was only a small chunk." Mary justified frantically. 

"You robbed him? Who the hell are you and what did you do to Mary?" Arthur joked and tried to calm her down a bit. 

"I-I didn't have a choice! Jamie needed some money for university too, and no one else can help." She nearly cried.  
"It would've just ended up in a tavern anyway." He put his hand on hers, trying to comfort her.  
"Do you ever feel like this... after doing what you do?" Mary asked, recomposing herself.  
"Sometimes. Well, usually not." Arthur replied honestly.  
"Why?" She asked.  
"." She muttered.  
The silence encompassed the dim room oncemore, as they sat by the table, sipping their beverages. 

"I have to say, it was a rush. I'm not proud of it, but still, I can see why you stuck with it." Mary sheepishly admitted, still trying to calm down a bit.  
"I know. Just don't get caught. Or killed." Arthur smiled.  
"I won't, if you won't either." She promised.  
"Good. You have a gun, right?" Arthur asked.  
"No, why would I need one? I'm not running around robbing people. It was a one time thing!" Mary swore.  
"There's a lot of crazies and drunks in this city, especially late at night. Better to be safe than sorry." Arthur suggested.  
"Don't you worry. I'm fine." She reassured.  
"I'll be back in a second." Arthur said and left the room.  
He rifled through the saddlebag of his horse, through the rations and items until he found it, a small folding knife. He came back up and walked back to the table, and placed the closed blade into her hand.  
"A knife? I'm not completely defenseless, Arthur. I appreciate it but..." Mary said and trailed off.  
"It ain't just for defense. It's for everything that... needs a knife too." The man explained and sat back down.  
"I'll keep it with me, for you..." She gave up and placed it onto the table. 

"This is nice, y'know, just us, here..." Arthur muttered.  
"It is." Mary replied and took a long gulp of the wine.  
They sat for a bit, in a comfortable silence. 

"Hey, when you leave, tell me where to send the letters or I'll track you down and give 'em to you myself." She joked. 

" 'course I will. I ain't _that_ dumb! I'll come 'n tell you." He replied.  
Mary smiled a small smile.

"Remember when we were kids and snuck around together?" She reminisced.  
"Yeah... I do. You remember when we were out in the woods and stumbled into that poison ivy?" Arthur asked.  
"And we had to wash up in that pond in the middle of the night? Yeah." Mary laughed.  
"You got away with only a few rashes!" He chuckled.  
"Your whole back was red and puffy! I tried to wash the ivy off and it was like touching a boiling pot! It was awful!" Mary laughed.  
"It wasn't that bad!" Arthur exclaimed.  
"Every time I touched your back, you tensed up and dipped under the water!" She smiled. 

"You wasn't much better!" Arthur smirked and ran his fingers down her neck.  
"Hah, yeah." Mary laughed.

"I should get going. Thanks for a lovely time, Mary. " Arthur cleared his throat and stood back up to leave, slightly flustered. She grabbed him by the hand and stood up to face him.  
"Is something wrong, Arthur?" Mary asked as she studied his face.  
"No, I just have to go. I'm sorry." He apologized and tried to leave once again.  
"What's wrong?" She asked.  
"Nothing, it's stupid." He remarked and opened the door.  
"I know that ain't true. " Mary replied as he walked back in.  
"I don't want to screw this up like I screwed everything else up. I don't want to ruin your life too." He admitted.  
"Ruin my life? What?" She asked, confused.  
"Yes, you've got a job, an apartment, friends, an okay brother and a good horse." He blurted out.  
"My brother's on another continent, I'm one step away from being a hooker... I rent a room at a hotel, what exactly is there to ruin?" Mary asked and shut the door again.  
"It ain't that simple. At least you got security. Everyone's out to kill us constantly." Arthur elaborated.  
"Sure, but this isn't exactly a better existance. The police are corrupt and are just there for show. Besides, we're all going to die some day, and end up in the same place. What's the point of living if you don't enjoy it at all?" She replied. 

"Maybe there's no point and we exist just because we do." Arthur responded.  
"Where are you going after you leave Saint Denis anyway?" Mary asked.  
"I don't know. Somewhere far away, maybe in New Hanover, just until we get enough money together." He replied.  
"How much money is it?" She asked another question.  
"Not too much. It's just one more job away." Arthur replied once more.  
"You promise?" Mary asked.  
"I do. As soon as we get the money, I can start fresh, in Alaska or Australia or Tahiti or wherever the hell we end up." He replied.  
"What are you gonna do?" She asked curiously.  
"You know, I ain't sure. I never really thought that much about it. Anyway, I really should go." Arthur replied.  
"Okay. I have work in an hour anyway. I'll miss you, Arthur." Mary replied, a bit disappointed.  
"I'll miss you too."  
The two embraces oncemore, never wanting to let go. 

Arthur walked out onto the dirty steet and greeted his horse with a pat, before riding back to the dilapidated home.  
He noted that a few of the folks were out, and that Dutch and Hosea were talking about the next step forward, once again. 

"Why the hell would Micah tell the Pinkertons where we are, if they could just come and kill the lot of us, including him?" Hosea asked 

"We have at least a few days till they find us again." Dutch continued.  
"Arthur, you can either stay here on watch duty like you promised or look for a new campsite, but you can't just keep hiding." Hosea noticed Arthur walking around.  
"I wasn't hidin'." Arthur replied.  
"You can help Miss Grimshaw pack up camp, just get something done." Hosea replied and got up with the gun he had just cleaned.  
"Fine. I'll go see who's been on duty the longest." Arthur sighed and took a repeater into his hands.  
"Sean's been out there for a few hours, you go tell him his shifts done." Dutch responded and pointed west.  
"Oh, _now_ he's well enough to work." He huffed and headed to the area, as Dutch and Hosea went their separate ways. 

Sean was still there, awake and alive as ever, and happy to end the shift. 

The hours passed surprisingly fast, even though nothing happened in that time. The sun was slowly being swallowed by the watery horizon, illuminating the swamps in a peachy orange glow. 

Charles came to take over, and he went back to the house, loooking at the familiar site of packed wagons, just about ready to go at any second. 

"_So long, Saint Denis..._"

"_Farewell, Micah Bell._"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i promised to kill someone i hated dearly, and i did


End file.
